


The Fall and Rise of God's Archangels

by Morning_Star (Lumiel_lightbringer)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abandonment, Abandonment Issues, Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angel Family, Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Archangels, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Drug Use, Drugs, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fallen Angel Gabriel (Supernatural), Fallen Angel Lucifer (Supernatural), Fallen Angel Michael (Supernatural), Fallen Angels, Family Issues, Forgiveness, Gen, Gender Confusion, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Issues, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Genderfluid, Genderfluid Character, Homelessness, Hurt, Hurt Gabriel (Supernatural), Hurt Lucifer, Hurt Lucifer (Supernatural), Hurt Michael (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, Illegal Activities, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mute Lucifer (Supernatural), Muteness, Panic, Panic Attacks, Protective Gabriel (Supernatural), Protective Michael, Redemption, Road Trips, Selective Muteness, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Trust Issues, panic disorder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2020-08-20 13:31:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20228656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumiel_lightbringer/pseuds/Morning_Star
Summary: For punishment, God cast down, and turned human, three of his archangels: Michael, Lucifer, and Gabriel.





	1. Good Morning, Vietnam!

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Angels in America](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1853701) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 

~

Michael isn't sure what to make of this.

One minute he's staring off into space, rotting alongside Lucifer in the Cage, and the next he is lying in what feel like harsh bristles of... Something.

His eyes remain shut, unsure of what this is. Perhaps it is an illusion, a trick by his brother, something to fool him into a sense of bliss. But, then again, this doesn't _feel_ very blissful. Just... Better than the Cage.

He sighs internally, deciding that the only way to figure it out is to open his eyes and face it head on.

Michael's eyes open only to be shut instantly again. Why is so bright? It isn't bright in the Cage.

Maybe he's back in Heaven - has Father forgiven him? Has he returned and saved him from that torturous cell?

But, no... Heaven doesn't have this... This odd ground.

It hits him like a brick.

He's on Earth.

Trying once more, Michael - slowly, this time - opens his eyes.

The sky is a light blue, dotted by fluffy clouds. The sun shines down relentlessly, much brighter than he remembers. Maybe it is just his eyes being weak after centuries in Hell.

He sits up, using his elbows to prop himself up enough to peer around. He is lying in the middle of a forest. The trees are not quite high, but there are many, making it nearly impossible to see past. Wider bushes also help in obscuring his vision.

He could be anywhere from Europe to Asia to Canada. Nothing gives anything away.

He sighs, this time aloud, before standing up. A breeze flows through the trees, sending a shiver up his spine. Angels don't shiver, he notes, but just as quickly, shakes away that though. No, Father would never have him Fall. Especially not to a degree that ended in... No, he won't even ponder it.

He feels the cold grass - that's what it was... - in between his toes - his toes? Michael inspects himself only to find that he is completely, utterly nude.

Great, just great.

He looks at his vessels arms and legs, wondering who he was embodying, since he does not remember anyone saying 'yes' or possession. But how else would he be on Earth?

The whisper of doubt and fear comes, but Michael shrugs it away, deciding, instead, to look for landmarks. As if he would remember any, though, so maybe just a gas station would suffice.

He takes a few wobbly steps before realising something that confirmed every last ounce of fear in his body. He can't feel his wings.

No, _no_\- He thinks, shaking his head and gasping for air. He sucks in a shaky breath at last before swallowing it and focusing, as hard as he can, to try and feel some of his Grace. But he finds nothing, his connection to the Host completely cut off.

That is when he finds that the world is far quieter than he realised. With no voices filling his head - both of his brethren and the prayers of humans - the world is simply... Silent.

A few birds and insects speak, but, try as he might, Michael finds not even a whisper of his brothers and sisters in Heaven or otherwise.

It takes him a few minutes to compose himself, but he does. Though, Michael's mind does not stop racing. _I'm human. I am a full human. No Grace, no wings, no voices, no Host, nothing._ He feels a twinge of pain in his heart. _I'm not an angel..._ It hurts far more than he could have ever imagined. Most likely because of how much more violent emotions are to Mankind.

How they can handle it all, Michael will probably never know.

He always saw Mankind as a weaker species. He loved them, yes, with all of his heart - because Father ordered it, at first, but he soon found himself truly loving them - but he never understood what compelled Father to create them the way he did.

Small, naked creatures. As he is now. Emotions and thoughts and barely anything to protect themselves but their own bodies and creations.

Of course, in millennia after, they had proven themselves as creative, intelligent beings, and for that, Michael was in awe. As for everything else, he never understood.

Feelings Michael can't even begin to describe fill him, and he finds his eyes filling with tears. He hates this, he hates it so much. How? How could Father do this to him? Him? The perfect son. The loyal archangel warrior. The eldest, the strongest, the loyalest. And yet, here he stands, tears rimming his eyes because he does not understand why he feels this emotions that had never crossed past the horizon as an angel.

Finally, Michael finds himself able to move once again. He chooses a direction - forward, since it is easiest - and walks.

The rocks and pebbles hurt his feet, but he treads on nonetheless. Mankind did, why can't he?

He makes it a few yards through thick surrounding of flora and fauna.

A rather large bush stands in his way, and his pushes it to the side, only to gape in shock at what - or rather, who - he finds past it.

~

It took less than a second for the panic to settle in once Lucifer found his wings to be no more.

He had awaken to the Earthly surroundings no more than a minute ago, and yet the first thing he notices is the lack of feathers behind him. _Fuck_ was his first thought. Then it was, _oh no... Oh no oh no oh no. _That then became the more frantic, _ohno ohno ohnoohnoohnohnohnohno_. And then finally, _NO.  
_

More than anything else in the world, Lucifer loved his wings. His beautiful, green-tinted wings.

He needed nothing more to show his lack of angelic power, but the empty pit in his soul, where his Grace usually resided, added heavily.

The panic from losing his wings increased tenfold when it hit him: _I'm human_.

Yes, he realised from the start, but the total realisation of being _fully_ human was greater now that he could feel the cold air around him, the dew on the grass moistening his skin slightly.

Quickly, his eyes snap open and he looks around wildly, confusion and fear filling. At that moment, he then noticed his lack of clothing, but that was the least of his problems right now.

_My wings... My wings, my Grace - my... my wings, no.. No, no no!_ Because he _needs_ his wings he _needs_ his Grace and he- he can't survive without them! Because, oh Father above, he _can't breathe_.

_Great_, he thinks, _my first day as a human and I can't even breathe right- oh Father, no no, wait no, I need to breathe, no I- I-_

He gasps in as much oxygen as he can, but ends up letting it out in broken sobs.

He is a human, a _human_! A naked ape with no power, no purpose, no righteousness. Nothing.

He never hated humans, he just found them repulsive. There's a difference - a slight one, yes, but one nonetheless. They are small, weak creatures. They have amazing minds, but most waste it on their petty emotions. 

And to think, Father wants him to love _them_ more than him!

No, Lucifer can't do that. He never could. He always loved his Father. He still does. And yes, he might have had been able to find a place in his heart for these mud-monkeys, but after all they have done? After all the slander they commit, the murder, and theft, and crime - all of it, in _his_ name? And with all of their 'love for God, hate for the Devil' religion, no, no, Lucifer can no longer love Mankind.

They once were considered his Family as well. More of distant cousins, than anything, but still, Family. He accepted them, and even perfected the Earth for them.

And then, they go and soil his name in a million different ways? For what? For a son loving his Father. For Lucifer, loving God more than his creations.

How could he throw out something as precious as his love for his parent for a species of tiny, pathetic beings that barely leave a dent in the world. And, most of the time, if they do, it is a negative one!

_His_ planet, _his _creation, Earth. God made him that template, created the oceans and the lands, and let him decorate them as he so wished.

Even today, Earthlings wander and venture through his world, yet with a hate for the creator in their hearts. Because of love.

Everything bad spews from love, though, doesn't it?

Humans always made such bad decisions, did such horrible things. Either in the name of God, in _his_ name, or in the name of love.

No, there is no more room for love of Mankind in Lucifer's heart. They are both helpless, pathetic creatures and evil, disgusting beings.

Lucifer would have scoffed at the thought of _him_ being one of _them_ if he wasn't too busy freaking out. Hot tears stream down his cheeks as he shakes his head, unrelenting emotions that he can't understand. Can't comprehend.

Why? Why did Father have to turn him into... Into a flawed creature as such? Why did Father have to strip him of his Grace, his only lifeline left. The only reason he could ever find a sliver of happiness. His Grace, his wings, his _power_.

A rustle in the bushes beside him sends a wave of fear through him. His tears stop all together as his body tenses up, and his thoughts race through, _Oh Father am I to die here? Am I to die a naked human, helpless in these woods?_ And then to, _please, Father, not like this. I do not wish to die without being able a chance of redemption... Please!_

His eyes screw shut tight, and he curls up into a ball. That's when he hears an all too familiar voice.

"Lucifer?"

~

The sound of birds chirping and singing away catches Gabriel by surprise.

He expected silence after death, or maybe endless dreaming, as he had been told his entire life.

But not _this_.

He opens his eyes and looks around. Maybe this is a dream, he ponders, only to notice the puddle of mud his arm is in. 

He quickly sits up, eyes a little wild in surprise. Is this Earth, or a dream?

His first instinct, he acts on, and slaps himself as hard as he can.

Then, he remembers that he has never once dreamt in his life, so maybe you _can_ feel pain in a dream. He isn't sure.

Next, he tries to pray to his brothers and sisters, maybe, if he reaches someone, they can confirm his life.

He tries, first shutting his eyes and reaching out mentally.

But as he does, a dawning realisition hits him.

He can't... He can't feel the Heavenly Host.

A slow burn of fear settles under his skin, and Gabriel tries to move his wings.

The cold air on his back sends shivers up his spine, but what truly scares him, is that his wings are gone - without a trace.

In one final hurrah, Gabriel searches deep down where his Grace should be - keyword: _should_.

When he finds nothing - not a single _ounce_ of it, the Trickster searches further - where he stored the Angelic Power when he was posing as Loki.

Nothing.

As an archangel that has never once _felt_ life as a human, he can only assume that this is, in fact real. And that, Father actually resurrected him into existence as a mortal.

The sticky, goop of mud on his arm and the freezing wind on his bare skin confirms the fact, as he has never felt temperature as an angel, until now. _Bare? Oh. Wow. Great._ He looks down and groans. How hard is it for Father, the creator of the universe, to zap in some damn clothes?

Gabriel decides quickly that dwelling on his nude form and lack of Grace would get him no where but in a deeper depressed pit, so he gets to his feet and takes note of his surroundings.

Trees.

That is all.

Well, give or take a few bushes and maybe a rock or two. But basically, all trees.

With a heavy sigh, Gabriel takes a few steps forward, testing his new legs, before venturing further into the woods.

Not after just a few short minutes into his trek, does he find a surprising sight. 

Michael and Lucifer - sadly, both naked as well - only a few yards from where he awoken.

From the look of things, Michael was in the same situation as him, on his feet and looking between the curled up Lucifer to Gabriel.

The youngest finds his voice first, "Please, am I dreaming or what?"

Michael gulps down a heavy lump in his throat and replies, his voice raspy, "This is not a dream, brother. How you are alive... I..."

"Most likely the same reason we're all naked."

"And human." Michael adds begrudgingly. Gabriel raises an eyebrow and steps closer into the small clearing.

"Did Father do this? Are we all human?"

He looks at Michael for an answer to the first, then at Lucifer for the second.

Michael replies with, "I believe so. He raised Lucifer and me from the Cage." And Lucifer just glances up at Gabriel, but before their eyes meet, he looks away.

He got answers to both.

"Brother, I do not know what to do." Michael says, approaching Gabriel with utter confusion, "I cannot feel the Host. My wings are gone, and my Grace is no more. The world is so quiet, brother. I do not know why I am cold, nor what these horrible _emotions_ are. Gabriel, what is this? Why are we human? Why has Father stripped us of our Graces?"

"Calm down, Mikey." Gabriel says, staring at the face of Michael's old vessel, one he does not exactly remember, but knows he has seen it before. His hair is black, and face pointed at the chin, with slightly jutted out cheekbones. Gabriel remains in the body he earned from Loki, and Lucifer looks as his frequent vessel, Nick. "Everything's gonna be fine. Let's just get some clothes, first, then we can freak out."

Michael nods, understanding these words, these orders. He understands orders, he can follow orders, he likes orders, even if they are given from his youngest brother, Gabriel.

"Hey, Luci," Gabriel kneels down and reaches out to touch him, but stops when he flinches. "Whoa, relax, bud, it's just me."

Lucifer peers up with deer-like eyes. He looks so... Different, than his usual aura of power, self-righteousness, and arrogance. Now, he appears... Helpless and afraid, words he never thought to associate with his big brother.

"Hey," He tries again, reaches out a hand in a gesture of peace and an offer to help him up, "Wanna get up?"

Lucifer stands up, but does not take his hand. Whether he does not intend to keep the peace between the brothers or if he doesn't feel he deserves it, Gabriel is not entirely sure. Though, in his current state, the Trickster is leaning more towards the latter option.

"Alright." Gabriel claps his hands together. "Let's find a road then. Clothing ahoy!"

He turns and begins wandering off, the older two following behind suit.

This is going to be interesting, Gabriel thinks.


	2. Civilization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realise there are a lot of similarities between the story this was inspired by and mine... I apologize for this. I don't try to, I swear!

~

Step 1: Pants.

Gabriel decides that the first order of business, now that they are no longer lost - Michael begs to differ - and now are walking alongside a relatively (read: extremely) deserted road, give or take a few cars, is to get some form of trouser or any other devices of penis coverage.

"What exactly are we looking for?" Michael questions, standing beside Gabriel, Lucifer looming in the back with his head hung low, arms held in front of him with his hands clasped together.

"Preferably a Good Will, but I doubt we'll find any of those soon, so probably a gas station."

"Oh. Why?"

Gabriel stops and stares Michael in the eyes before saying, loudly and slowly, extending the word out as if it was both the most complex and simplest thing in the history of time. "Pants!"

Michael looks at him in confusion but finally understands. "Oh. We need to cover ourselves."

"Unless you're in the mood for a wild orgy, or maybe to find some nudist town, I sincerely doubt we will be able to get far without clothing."

They continue walking after that.

A few painful nights were spent lying on the side of the road, staring at the stars while waiting for the ache in their feet to leave, or for sleep to claim them.

More common than not, sleep takes Michael and Lucifer easily. Gabriel spends his nights watching the clouds and stars, taking in their beauty. He never knew how much he missed it during his death, however long that was.

But, all in all, their homeless endeavor was not all that bad.

Apart from the complaining of Michael ("I do not understand! Why must feet hurt when they are supposed to walk!" and "They should be used to holding my weight! Why are they not?"), and the quiet whimpers of pain from Lucifer - that both Gabriel and Michael hear, but neither mention it to the other, and instead simply take a break, sitting down for a few minutes - the hike was relatively easy.

Hunger, though, was a bigger problem.

Both Michael and Lucifer complained loudly about it, as did their stomachs. Gabriel sighs as Lucifer makes a loud noise of frustration for the seventh time that hour. "Luci, I can't fix it!" He exclaims, "Unless you want to eat the grass, we need to get to a store or restaurant or _something_ to get food!"

Michael pokes his own stomach, making a face as it rumbles, "Why do our stomachs make noises to show hunger?" He asks.

Gabriel groans and replies, "Why does your face make noises?"

They quiet down after that.

The rest of their hiking was easy after that - they all realised that whining just annoyed everyone else.

There were only two ways for the road to go, and one was backwards, so they just kept pushing forward until they found civilization.

Civilization is, currently, a gas station with a motel across the road and a ranger's lodge just barely into the woods, but enough to be spotted from the road.

The cashier gave the three brothers a very confused, and quite embarrassed look when they entered.

Gabriel quickly snatched up three of the t-shirts - all with a cartoon bear standing in front of a crossed out fire - along with three hoodies, and three pairs of sweatpants, all also sporting the same design.

He quickly throws the other two pairs to Michael and Lucifer. The older of the two hurriedly getting changed, and Lucifer taking his time inspecting the design before slipping on the shirt, then the pants, and finally the hoodie.

The cashier begins to reach for the phone when Gabriel announces, "We escaped two crazed kidnappers!"

This gets everyone's attention. Michael opens his mouth but Gabriel holds up a hand, "They violated us, and stole our money. Please, let us have these clothes. We can pay through work. We need money. Please, sir." He blinks away fake tears before gasping out, dramatically, "Please."

The man, no more than 18, maybe 19 years old, puts the phone back down and gently smiles at them, "Do you need anything else?"

Jackpot.

~

"Gabriel." Michael says softly, as they exit the gas station and make their way towards the motel. They all have a small bag with two water bottles, an iced coffee, and a variety of sweets and nutrition bars.

"Yeah?" Gabriel turns to him, looking up from the wad of cash he was given for their room.

"Why did you lie to that man?" He looks genuinely upset about it.

Gabriel gives him an exasperated look before sighing and shaking his head, "Michael, no one is going to believe us if we say that we were dropped onto Earth, asses out, with zero money, and need free shit. I had too."

Michael furrows his eyebrows, still visibly upset about the situation, but dropping it.

"Mikey, I didn't exactly _want to_," Gabriel explains, "but he was going to call the cops! We can't go the jail. And not just because you would obviously _die_ there, but because there are people that look identical to us - well, to Luci, your's I think... I think you're a dead guy. Never mind that! If we get arrested, only _I_ would be processed properly, because you're either dead or in a different state - I highly doubt whoever you are would be in the same vicinity as us - and Luci is _definitely_ in a different state!"

"For the record," Michael mumbles, "This body is the younger form of John Winchester, so yes, both nonexistent anymore and dead."

"Damn it, my guess was Michael Jackson." Gabriel mutters, shaking his head. "But yeah! How'd they react to a young version of a dead guy coming back? And nude!"

"Why are you so hung up on us being naked?"

"Because I had to see your _junk_, Michael, that's why!"

They reach the motel before this awkward, un-explainable conversation could go on any longer.

Gabriel pays for a single room with two double beds. 

They get to their room and finally are able to collapse.

Lucifer enters the room after Gabriel, and makes a beeline for the bed closest to the door, beside the bathroom.

He climbs in - after dropping his bag of nutrition in front of it - and curls up into a ball at the foot of the bed.

"My brother is a dog." Gabriel announces, earning a confused look from Michael. "Alright. I guess you and I are sharing." Gabriel says, changing the subject since explaining jokes to Michael, is like teaching string theory to a rabbit.

Michael nods, both of them agreeing on not disturbing Lucifer's beauty sleep. Neither of them speak of it, but they share a worry for their silent brother [1]. 

The following morning is (non-literal) Hell.

Lucifer wakes up first.

His eyes snap open and his body is drenched in a cold sweat. Memories of the Cage, and the torture the prison itself inflicted on its occupants burn into his mind, and the backs of his eyelids, startling him whenever he blinks.

He stumbles out of bed, and into the washroom. He quickly splashes water onto his face multiple times, trying to rid himself of the memories. It doesn't work, but does manage to wake him up further and lessen the panic thrumming under his skin.

Lucifer returns back into the main room and stares at his sleeping siblings.

His heart pangs at how close they are laying, how peaceful they are. Why does _he_ have to be alone at night? Plagued by nightmares while Michael - who shared the experience with him - got to relax with Gabriel in bed?

He sighs, deciding that anger will do no good. It never did, in the past, so why would it now? Then again, when did trying to _change_ ever work, either?

He is sure about one thing; wanting his brothers' love. He wants to be accepted, cared for, like Before.

His stomach growls, and a deep ache signals that it is most likely time for nutrition. Making a quick decision, Lucifer collects his brother's bags of goodies, placing them onto the table a few feet from the door. He removes the coffees and placed them at either end of the table, a few inches away from the edge. Then, he pulls out two nutrition bars from each of the bags, orienting them vertically, below the coffees, slightly to the right.

He grabs his own bag, sitting down beside it in front of his bed, and pulls out his caffeinated drink. He takes a single sip of it after struggling with the cap for a minute.

The taste is very chocolate...y. In fact, overwhelmingly so. He looks at the side of the bottle in disgust before reading the instruction of 'shake well before serving'.

Oh.

Embarrassed, but glad that no one else is awake to see his error, Lucifer quickly corrects it by recapping the bottle and shaking it a few times.

He takes another taste, and, this time, it is actually nice. The sweet chocolate has an uncomfortable, bitter aftertaste, but he gets rid of it with another sip of it. Maybe this is why humans say coffee is addicting.

Michael awakens next. He is actually _kicked_ awake by Gabriel, who seems oblivious to the situation. He attempts to get back asleep but, after a few minutes of being kicked again and again, - why it didn't wake him before is a mystery to all involved- he gives up, rolling out of bed and blinking the sleep from his eyes.

He spots the food on the table and raises an eyebrow. Before he can do anything, though, he realises that he has to urinate.

Gabriel, reluctantly, had explained the concept to them at the gas station the night before, and they all seemed opposed to it. ("Why does the human body need so much fluid intake if it is all to be disposed of?") He still is.

As he heads towards the bathroom, he spots Lucifer sitting below his bed with his bottle of iced coffee. He stops and looks down at him.

"Hello." He tries, hoping to actually spark a conversation with his brother.

Lucifer looks up at him with those same deer-in-the-headlights eyes. He nods lightly, but when Michael furrows his eyebrows, he meekly raises his free hand and waves.

Michael realises that this must be hard on Lucifer as well, being suddenly human, and forced into tight quarters with his brothers that, last he had checked, hated him for all eternity.

He waves back, but does not relax, though, upset that he won't speak with him. But, at the moment, more pressing matters are to be dealt with. Pressing, like the feeling of liquid against his bladder as he continues to the bathroom to relieve himself.

Gabriel groans as he wakes up into the painful reality of humanity. He is the last to rise.

His stomach grumbles impatiently, and his limbs feel heavy.

"5 more... Mm... Hours..." He mumbles, rolling over only to fall flat on the floor with a loud _thud_.

"Ow." He pulls himself up, reluctantly, and staggers out from between the two beds.

Michael sits at the table by now, sipping on his coffee while watching his youngest sibling act like a fool. "Are you alright?" He asks, though the grin playing on his lips betrays him.

"Yeah, I'm peachy." He replies, using the table as a crutch as he passes by. "Duty calls." He announces, shutting the bathroom door behind him.

Even Lucifer has a small smile on by then.

After they all eat their pre-packaged meals, Gabriel leads the two out of the motel.

He disappears into the ranger's cabin for a few minutes, leaving Michael and Lucifer to socialize. Well, more or less. No, definitely less.

Michael stares at his younger brother while said brother stares at the ground as if it is the most interesting thing in the world.

This upsets Michael, greatly. He wants his brother back! He doesn't want this shell of a person that can't talk, nor handle any form of physical contact [2]. No, he wants _his_ brother.

He wants the Lucifer that never shuts the Hell up. He wants the Lucifer that gloats and rants and monologues all day, without a care for whether anyone is listening or not. He wants the Lucifer that is happily arrogant. The Lucifer that plays pranks on him and Gabriel, and Raphael. The Lucifer that tries to convince him to take a break from work to play. The Lucifer that interrupts training sessions to show him a new aerial trick. The Lucifer that always has a grin on his face and laughs loudly, and proudly. He wants _his_ Lucifer.

He would even settle for the crazy, murderous version of his brother. Even the Lucifer that talks slightly louder than normal, but never notices. Even the Lucifer that, Michael knows, has hallucinations and voices in his head telling him what to do. He'll take the brother that listens to those voices, or the one that cries because it's always too loud. He'll take the Lucifer that cares nothing for anyone but himself, or the Lucifer that does everything in his power to help him.

No matter if it is his brother Before or after the Fall, with or without the Mark that drove him into madness, Michael does not care. Just not... Not _this_!

"Lucifer?" Michael finally speaks without thinking.

His brother peers up at him with a look of honest fear in his eyes. It hurts Michael's heart. "What is wrong with you?" It comes out harsher than he intended, and quickly takes it back when he sees the hurt in his younger sibling's eyes. "I mean, not... Why are you not speaking? Why do you look so... Afraid?"

Lucifer shakes his head, looking away and frowning, his brows furrowing down over his glistening eyes. 

"Speak to me, brother!" He exclaims, but just gets a flinch and another, more vigorous, shake of the head. Michael lets out a deep sigh. "This is not like you. Not at all. I am worried, Lucifer."

Gabriel returns at that moment, jogging back towards them. "There's a town a few miles North of here."

"Where are we?" Asks Michael.

"Jersey."

He cocks his head to the side like a puppy, "What?"

"We're... Dad above, you are so clueless!" He exclaims, "We're in New Jersey State, genius."

Michael frowns at the insult, but doesn't say anything because he agrees. He _is_ quite clueless. "Why are we going to this town?" He questions.

"Because, it's bigger than this ghost town, and we're bound to find a job somewhere." He explains, leading them back onto the road to continue their hike North.

"Why do we need jobs?" 

Gabriel turns to Lucifer and mouths, 'Clueless' while pointing at Michael, earning a small smirk from the silent boy. "Because we need _money_." Gabriel explains, "I only have a few bucks left from what that cashier gave me. That'll probably be enough to get us a motel room."

"Oh." Michael nods, and they fall silent.

They continue on their much longer walk, but spend most of it tired, and in pain. Gabriel puts in a new rule of 'If you complain, you carry the bags', which shuts everyone, even the quiet Lucifer - who's form of whining is noises in the back of his throat while he makes a face - up, quick.

It is going to be a _long_ day.

* * *

[1] Not just because he refuses to speak, although that does add up to the deep-set fear in their guts. But his demeanour. Instead of the usually confident, head-high, regal man (well, Archangel, but _now_...) he was, Lucifer has yet to even make eye contact with anyone.

[2] Michael had tried to help Lucifer when his feet were hurting, but the younger had flinched away when he even tried to get close to him.


	3. Sympathy for the Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wasn't all too sure about this chapter, but decided ah, why not, and decided to release it. Definitely my least favourite of the three so far, but whatever. The next one should (hopefully) be better.

~

Lucifer falls down to his knees, eyes watering and throat clenching up.

He isn't sure _why_ he is reacting this way, but his is sure that he does _not_ like it.

His chest aches and a sharp pang of it erupts with every pounding beat of his heart.

Michael turns around at the sudden movement, and his eyes widen. "Luce," He gasps breathlessly, kneeling down in front of him.

Gabriel, too, looks behind to see the Devil on the verge of a panic attack - or, no, definitely in the _middle_ of one.

Hot tears stream down his cheeks as he breathes in forced, ragged breaths.

"What's happening? Is he ok?" Michael asks, worry struck in his eyes, one hand halfway to reaching out for the younger's arm.

"Probably just a panic attack," Gabriel mumbles, sitting down beside Lucifer and taking the older's head in his hands. "Look at me, Luci, look at me."

Wide blue eyes meet hazel ones, and Gabriel takes care to keep his gaze gentle. "Breathe," He says softly, "Just breathe. It'll be ok."

Lucifer lets out a rather pathetic sounding whine, eyes pleading for him to make it _stop_ to make it _go away_. "I can't make it stop, kiddo, but I can try and help." He murmurs, pulling him into a gentle hug. One hand lays carefully on the side of Lucifer's face, the other on his back, rubbing circles in a slow motion.

"You're ok... It's ok." He tries, keeping his hold on the - relatively - silent boy gentle. "Can you try to match my breathing?" He asks, and Lucifer manages a small nod matched with a tiny whimper.

"Breathe in," Gabriel takes in a deep breath, "One. Two. Three. Hold it, four. Five. Six." He exhales, "Then let it out. Seven. Eight. Nine."

Lucifer tries to copy him, but ends up gasping in weakly and sporadically. 

"Again, breathe in," Gabriel instructs, watching him and giving the older a supportive smile when he manages to get in a full breath, "There we go. Now hold it... Now let it out."

It appears more as if Lucifer had been holding his breath by the way he practically spits out the air, but Gabriel takes it as a win, and continues coaching him through the panic.

"In, one. Two. Three. Hold it, four. Five Six. Out, seven. Eight. Nine." He repeats the process with Lucifer until he manages a few rounds on his own. 

Over the next few minutes, Lucifer relaxes considerably, shuts his eyes, and breathes smoothly once more.

"There we go..." Gabriel mumbles, adjusting the older boy in his arms before standing.

Michael, at some point during all of that, had stood up. He currently resides at the edge of the mountain they are currently on, arms crossed, and staring down at the forest below.

Gabriel approaches him, careful not to jostle the now comfortably asleep Lucifer in his arms, "Mike? You ok?"

For a minute, Michael doesn't answer, though he does turn his head just enough for Gabriel to see the tears in his eyes. His expression softens, and worry sets in. Are _both_ his brothers breaking down today?

"No." He finally says, looking up to meet Gabriel's eyes. "Not really."

The Trickster slowly nods, then looks at the ground and back up to Michael, "Wanna sit down? Getting dark anyway..."

Michael also nods, taking a seat on the curve of the mountain's ledge. Gabriel sits down beside him, cradling Lucifer in his arms.

Gabriel frowns, eyeing Michael with an air of uncertainty. He was fine before Lucifer broke down. A part of Gabriel flares up in anger - if Michael was _mad_ at Lucifer for having a _panic attack_ he was about to throw hands.

Thankfully, Michael speaks first. "I don't think Lucifer likes me."

Well.

That was not the route he expected the conversation to take but, alright.

"What? He was like, practically _obsessed_ with you in Heaven."

Michael sighs, giving him a pointed look. "I don't know if you've noticed, Gabriel, but we are neither in Heaven anymore, nor are we angels. Not to mention that Lucifer has not _been_ to Heaven since his Fall, over six millennia ago." The edge on his tone is sharp, and Gabriel winces.

"I know that, but, I mean, it's not like..." He pauses. Michael's right, he realises. How could he practically warp it to calm the oldest, when Lucifer had screamed 'I hate you' at him before being struck down? When Lucifer waged war against Heaven and, in turn, Michael, and his armies? When Lucifer, last he heard, was seconds away from joining Michael in the Final Battle - something he was adamant about not doing when first told, in Heaven?

He hesitated far too long, because next thing he hears is a rather uncommon sound, as Michael scoffs and looks back to the cliff.

"You cannot fool me, brother." He mumbles, "Neither of you can. Never could, really..." A silent tear rolls down his cheek.

Gabriel averts his eyes. None of them ever saw Michael cry. He wasn't sure he was comfortable with it. He definitely didn't _like_ it.

"He... He's been through a lot, Mike." Gabriel tries, looking straight ahead. If he faced either of his brothers he might break [1].

"You think I _don't_ know that?" Michael all but yells, turning to face Gabriel with angry eyes. The Trickster refuses to look at him. "I have worried about him since the second he even _suggested_ taking the Mark! And now, after we _both_ suffered in the Cage for who _knows_ how long, I can't get him off my fucking _mind_!" Gabriel nearly chokes - Michael had never swore, at least never in front of him - "I used to be able to read him so well, Gabriel. I could tell what he was thinking about, what he was going to do, what he wanted, needed, felt, anything. Just from one look. Now, when I look at him, I... I don't know what I see." Another tear finds its way out of Michael's weary eyes.

Gabriel stays silent for a few minutes, they both do.

He tries again. "What... What _I_ see, when I look at Lucifer," Gabriel begins, slowly, treading carefully, "is..." He looks down at their brother, and he, too, is unsure. "I see... A... _Broken_ boy." He says the word quietly, thinking Michael would slaughter him for even _insinuating_ it, much less _saying_ the unspoken descriptor.

Michael looks from Gabriel's exhausted expression to Lucifer's identical one.

He nods, but it's barely a movement. Gabriel doesn't miss it, though.

Silence takes over both of them for a long time.

They watch the sunset and, though it isn't uncomfortable, nor would it be considered _peaceful_. Just... Quiet.

Finally, Michael speaks again. But, this time, his voice is strained, "He wouldn't let me near him."

Gabriel turns to him.

"He wouldn't let me even try to touch him."

It takes the youngest a minute, but when it hits him, it hits him _hard_.

"Mike..."

"The most interaction we had was when he fucking _waved_ at me at the motel. But you," He shakes his head, and the tears streaming down his cheeks become more apart in the glowing red light, "_You_ got to _hug_ him and _hold _him when I can't but I _need_ to because I _love_ him he's my _brother_ but I can't- I can't- I- I- I _can't_, Gabriel, I _can't_-" He chokes on his words and Gabriel quickly frees one hand [2] to place on Michael's back.

"Michael, Michael," He dips his head down, trying to get the oldest to look at him. "Look at me, Michael," He tries. And, to his surprise, Michael obeys.

He looks up at the youngest, eyes red and eyelids swollen. Tear tracks down his face stand stark out on his smooth skin.

"It's ok," Gabriel whispers, "It's ok. He's just freaked out by this whole mess, alright?"

Michael blinks and shakes his head, "No, he _hates_ me-"

"He doesn't hate you."

"He _does_. He suppose to and he does."

Gabriel gives Michael a look, causing the older to falter before the Trickster speaks, "C'mon, Mikey, when has Lucifer _ever_ done what he's supposed to? If anything, that'd make him love you _more_."

Michael lets out a light, breathy laugh, shaking his head. "He told me he hates me more than once. I made him _Fall_, I helped stick him in that disgusting Cage, and I tried to _kill_ him once he got out! I don't blame him for hating me. I don't. I hate me, too!"

"Michael," Gabriel whispers, eyes blurring as tears well.

"No, Gabriel, no! I-I'm _tired_ of ignoring the fact that's staring me in the eyes! I'm tired of pretending like it isn't true, or that I don't care, or that it'll _all_ be fine because I'm following Father's Plan but what's the _point_?"

Gabriel all but gauks.

"I mean, we're- we're _human_ and lost in some stupid state with nothing but the shit we conned out of some innocent civilian, and now we're stuck on a mountain with too much gravel! What's the point _now_, and what was the point _then_?"

"I... I don't know, Michael. I really don't." The younger whispers, staring at Michael's red face, noting how he gasps more than breathes, how his eyes stay wide open despite himself, and how his gaze constantly moves - darting this way and that. "I don't know what Dad's thinking, like, ever. But I _do_ know how you think." He moves his hand - which had gotten nudged onto the grass sometime during Michael's outburst - onto the oldest's shoulder. "And I know you are overthinking everything, right now."

"I'm not-"

"You _are_," Gabriel interrupts, giving him a pointed look. "And you need to stop and take a deep breath before you freak out."

Michael gives Gabriel a rather annoyed stare, but does what he is told nonetheless.

After a few long breaths, Michael speaks again, "I am sorry, Gabriel. That was... Uncalled for."

Gabriel gives him a confused look, and interrupts him when he opens his mouth to explain, "You don't need to _apologize_ for being _worried_ about your brother, Michael."

This obviously confuses the older. "But I was not able to stay calm? I burdened you with my emotions."

"No, you got scared and that's probably as normal of a reaction to a weirdass situation as this that you could have. Don't say you're sorry, because you don't need to be."

Michael slowly nods, and the two fall back into the familiar silence.

Except, this time, it _does_ feel peaceful.

Michael places a hand over Gabriel's, and lets out a long, deep sigh. "I'm exhausted." He murmurs.

Gabriel nods, smiling faintly at him. "We should get some rest, then. Luci's catching all the z's without us."

"I don't think I'll ever understand your jokes, brother." Michael mumbles, laying back and clasping his hands over his stomach.

Gabriel leans back and places Lucifer between them, wrapping an arm around his waist loosely, "Eh. You just need to learn the _ways_ of the _pop culture_."

"The 'ways'?" Michael snorts.

Gabriel shrugs. "Yeah. Like the _way of the force_ but it's modern media."

Michael lets out an airy laugh, and Gabriel feels his heart lift.

"Yeah, I'll get on that in the morning. Maybe I'll find something invigorating from the trees."

"I heard the gravel has some interesting facts on sharks."

"The leaves understand climate change."

"I bet they do, actually."

"Probably." He pauses, then adds, "Hopefully."

The two smile and Michael shuts his eyes, "Good night, Gabriel."

"Night, Mikey."

The sun lowers below the horizon, and the world falls dark around them.

* * *

[1] And that's the last thing they need. With Lucifer's anxiety attack to Michael's worry, Gabriel wouldn't let his own emotions add to their concerns.

[2] He moves, adjusting Lucifer to one shoulder and holding him there with his left so the one closest to Michael would be able to reach out.


	4. The First Archangel, A Mute Devil, And An Archangel-Turned-Norse-God-Turned-Human

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mayhaps gabriel *snapped*

~

A rainbow of lights shine through the dark sky.

Whites and yellows glimmering against the reds and blues that burst through the fog and burn bright.

"Woah." Gabriel mumbles, staring wide-eyed at the city.

"Is this our destination?" Michael asks, quietly. He looks surprised as his eyes scan the skyscrapers and apartment complexes that decorate the concrete streets.

"Yeah, this is Jersey City, Mikey." He smiles, relieved. "This is our new home."

Michael doesn't respond. Wide blue eyes watch the few cars roll along the dark roads. In the distance, lights shine from a stadium and the shouts of a crowd flow through the silent night.

"Where will we stay? We do not have enough money. I don't think... I'm not sure." The oldest's face contorts in a dissatisfied frown - he does not like not knowing things.

"Don't worry. We can afford a motel room... Probably. If not, we have the Devil to pickpocket some suckers." Gabriel winks at Lucifer, who takes a step back with wide eyes.

"No!" Michael exclaims, "We are _not_ stealing!"

Lucifer makes a motion with his hands, as if weighing two options. Gabriel grins and nods at him, "Luci gets it."

"I do not." Michael mutters, eyebrows lowering down into a frustrated glare.

"If we _have_ to, we'll steal from the _rich_." The Trickster says, slowly, and Michael is two seconds away from throwing hands.

"But how will we know who is rich?" Michael whines, and Gabriel, too, is close to swinging.

"Trust me. You'll know."

Michael groans loudly, uncharacteristically, and rolls his eyes.

Gabriel grabs one of his hands and one of Lucifer's and begins to be drag them down the road.

The city is quiet, dark, with spotlight-like lamp posts dotting the sides of the streets.

"It is... Silent." Michael mumbles, warily, looking around. "The last time I was somewhere like this..." He glances at Lucifer and instantly regrets his words.

The younger pulls his hand out of Gabriel's firm grasp, crossing his arms and looking away from the two.

"I didn't mean it like that, Lucifer." Michael mumbles, though he knows whatever he says will fall on deaf ears. He never listened before, why would he know?

In the middle, Gabriel sighs at the tension - it's like his brothers have no clue how to have a normal, snark-less, unsalted conversation! - "Guys, c'mon."

Lucifer doesn't turn back, but Michael moves to look at the youngest.

"It's not like we don't _know_ what happened." Michael's gaze hardens, and Lucifer glances back, a dangerous look in his eyes, "Hey, hey, I'm not saying one of you are right! In fact, I don't think either of you are right!"

Michael opens his mouth and Lucifer holds up a middle finger - at Michael or Gabriel, no one will ever know.

"Hey, let me _finish_," Gabriel hisses, and continues without missing a beat, "I'm just saying, it _happened_! So what? Worse shit has happened. It's not like any of this has _ruined_ our relationships - well." He pauses, and Lucifer might just speak.

"Ok, so yeah. Maybe a few things happened that... _Hurt_ you guys' relationship, and yeah, it was a dick move for me to just... Disappear and become a Norse god for a bit."

"A _bit_?!" Michael shrieks, and Gabriel holds up his hands defensively.

"Hey, hey. We are _immortal_, a few millennia is _nothing."_

"Big talk from the guy that fled two days after Lucifer's Fall."

Gabriel's eyes narrow. "Big talk from the guy that _cried_ all two days after Lucifer's Fall!"

"Big talk from the guy that_ screamed at Father_ one day after Lucifer's Fall!" Michael shouts, anger filling his gut. Lucifer takes a step back, breath becoming rapid.

"Big talk from the guy that _only exiled Lucifer because Father said so_!"

"Big talk from the guy that_ blamed me_ for doing my duty as an archangel!"

"Big talk from the guy that ignored his fucking siblings to be the 'good son'! Huh? How'd that work out for ya, Mikey? You got thrown in the Cage with Lucifer, who you kicked out of Heaven because Dad said so! You got punished while trying to kill him, and I'm glad! You were going to kill your own brother just because _Daddy said so_." Gabriel shouts, grabbing Michael by the collar and pulling him close to his face. 

"And now look where we are! Dad has forgotten about us. He threw us up out of our punishments into just a bigger one! We're human! So for_get_ your 'duty as an archangel' because you are _not_ an archangel!" Gabriel drops Michael and takes a step back. "Not anymore."

Michael's lips twitch and he blinks hard.

Fuck.

Gabriel _knows_ he should stop but he can't. Michael already broke down once, and that is one more time than he ever had [1]. But his body shakes, his fists clench, his lips turn down. All the pent up anger - all the pent up _resentment_ for what Michael always stood for, despite his clear love for his siblings, just comes pouring out.

"Stop trying to be the_ good son_ when Dad will never do anything in return! Dad will _never_ show you anymore love just because of it. Dad has _left_ and he isn't coming back! I don't know _why _we're alive, on Earth, and human, but it isn't because Dad _loves us_. Forget the act, Michael! You have two brothers right here that need you!" He takes a few more steps back, shaking his head angrily, "And trust me, I am doing my fucking _best_ to try and take care of you two, despite being the youngest! I haven't been human before, either! I get it, you two are scared, trust me, _I get it_. I was fucking _terrified_ when I left Heaven!"

Michael clenches his jaw, and Gabriel sees red.

"I don't care if you don't feel 'angelic', because you're _not_. Your brothers - Hell, your _favourite_ brother is standing right there and all you can do is be _salty_ about what happened before! It's time you Michael! You don't need to be the good son anymore, you need to be the good brother. Maybe if you tried, then Dad would love you. Would love _any of us_!"

By now, Lucifer has backed up onto the sidewalk, his mouth open, staring down at the two with wide, teary eyes.

Michael has his lips pressed together tight, teeth clenched against a locked jaw.

"I know." He whispers, barely audible. But Gabriel catches it. Lucifer, too. They all hear it, and hate how small the oldest sounds.

Gabriel's expression softens instantly, thinking clearly again.

"You two just need to talk." He whispers, "Just... Understand that... It's not _easy_, our lives." He gestures around them wildly, "We're human for the first time in our immortal lives, and I'm not sure what to do. I'm pissing in the wind with this, too! It makes no sense. None of our lives make sense! We're ex-archangels in fucking Jersey City standing in the middle of the street! You're _Michael_ the first archangel and you're crying in the road, and Lucifer's a mute! I'm an archangel-turned-Norse-god-turned-human and honestly, all I want is to raid the nearest liquor shop and collapse in a comfy bed! So let's just... Let's just forgive each other right here, right now, and find somewhere to sleep for the night."

Michael looks down, and slowly nods.

Lucifer, too, nods, biting his lip.

"Good. Then... Let's go." Gabriel turns and continues forward.

Michael, carefully, looks at Lucifer, and wordlessly holds out a hand.

Lucifer looks from Michael's shimmering blue eyes to the limb, and tentatively reaches out to it. His fingers touch Michael's, but then he flinches back and whimpers.

"It's... It's ok..." Michael tries, quietly, lowering his arm. "It's ok." A tear drips out of his eye, but he manages a small smile nonetheless. "It's ok." He's trying, Michael knows, he _sees_; he's actually trying and Michael can't believe it.

The two walk side-by-side behind Gabriel, in silence.

The road is long, and winding, but they know the destination will be worth it - no matter how many moons must pass, how much it costs them, they'll get there.

* * *

[1] Not since Lucifer went mad from the Mark. Not since he rebelled, and Fell for it. Not since Michael buried his emotions away and became distant, cold... Harsh. Not since Gabriel ran away.


End file.
